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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23860684">For a while</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ionia/pseuds/ionia'>ionia</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Superman (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Fluff, M/M, Pillow Talk</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 22:21:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,054</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23860684</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ionia/pseuds/ionia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A bad decision on Bruce's end leads to a good morning (minus the headache)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>154</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>For a while</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first thing Bruce felt when he woke up was a sharp pain on his temples, a dull pressure on his forehead. The mattress felt like a warm, damp cloud against his skin and the blanket was too heavy. He was sweating, he had a headache. A hangover. He remembered getting a bottle of whiskey from the cellar, but trying to recall anything after turning off his computer and downing the third glass made his brain hurt. At least the curtains were closed and Alfred hadn't tried to wake him up yet. While his first instinct was to start exercising and sweat out the hangover, his body told him to stay in bed and do absolutely nothing. He closed his eyes again and tried to sleep. </p><p>As he slowly began to drift off again, he became aware of the presence of someone else in the bed.  He felt the weight of another body on the bed behind him, heard slow breathing. It was bad enough that he had gotten drunk, but apparently he had slept with someone too and couldn't remember a single thing. Usually he made sure to be cognitive enough to be able to hide or if necessary, explain his scars without giving anything away, but now he could not even remember who it was. As far as he knew, he'd been alone when he started drinking.</p><p>It was also strange that he was dressed in his black silk pyjamas, which he barely ever wore.</p><p>"Good morning," Clark’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts. Well, at least he didn't have to pretend to be Brucie now. And damn those super senses for knowing he was awake right away.</p><p>"How do you feel?" Clark asked.</p><p>"Terrible. You've got ten words to tell me what happened last night," he said hoarsely. Sounds hurt. And he really needed water. Clark seemed to think for a while. Probably counting the words. Finally, he settled on "I brought you to bed. You asked me to stay." He vaguely remembered texting and maybe calling last night… had that been Clark? This did not bode well.</p><p>"You uhh… also tried to kiss me."</p><p>Oh. Bad.</p><p>"Don't worry, nothing else happened."</p><p>So, he had drunkenly booty called Clark, who had actually shown up, tried to kiss him, and somehow Clark still stayed the night when he could have just flown home.</p><p>He heard Clark shuffle around behind him. "Bruce, do you remember why you started drinking last night?"</p><p>Yes. He didn't normally use alcohol as an escape. Not often at least; he had other ways to cope with things. Many other ways. But sometimes, when he felt so lonely it hurt, and he knew he wouldn't be fully committed on patrol and make mistakes, he'd reach for the bottle. Last night was one of those nights.</p><p>He felt confident that Clark had simply helped him to bed, put on his awful silk pyjamas, and just slipped under the covers with him. That nothing beside an attempted kiss had happened. It wasn't too late to chalk that up to the alcohol and just command him to go home. Push him away again like he always did. But something told him that Clark being here – and it somehow felt so natural, waking up next to him - made it okay. Okay to talk. That he didn't have much to lose now anyway. He screwed his eyes shut and breathed out.</p><p>"I'll never have what my parents had."</p><p>“Yeah, you said a lot about being alone forever and not deserving to be happy.”</p><p>“Because it’s true.”</p><p>“I don’t think so. You deserve the world, Bruce. If only I’d known sooner… how you felt…” Clark sighed.</p><p>Bruce turned around. “Then what? We’d live happily ever after?”</p><p>Happily ever after was unreachable in their line of work, and he had given that up a long time ago. He had effectively hidden his feelings for Clark first from himself, and eventually just from Clark. Spent so much energy to push it away, ignore it, keep up a stoic, impenetrable force field around Clark. He had simply never considered the possibility that Clark felt anything for him.</p><p>“Maybe, maybe not. We could try,” Clark offered.</p><p>Clark was looking at him, skin perfect, none of the sheet wrinkles present that Bruce undoubtedly had, but his dark hair was messy and sticking up from the pillow. His eyebrows were slightly raised and drawn together in expectation. Bruce settled a little better, scooted closer to Clark.</p><p>"I would still be Batman."</p><p>"Of course."</p><p>"I would still be an enormous asshole at times."</p><p>"I wouldn't expect any less of you."</p><p>"I wouldn't change my workouts, my patrols, business trips or anything else. My schedule is very unpredictable."</p><p>"So is mine."</p><p>"I would still wake up really late most days."</p><p>"And I'd wake up bright and early for work and see you at dinner."</p><p>"Impossible."</p><p>"Oh. Why?"</p><p>"That would be my lunch."</p><p>Clark laughed at that. And Bruce could do nothing but capture that smile in a kiss, one that he would remember for a long time. It got better when Clark grabbed his sleeve and pulled him closer, and he'd have to remember what that did to him too. Remember the feel of Clark's muscles, skin and heartbeat through his cotton t-shirt.</p><p>“So, it that a yes? Because I could go back and forth with you all day,” Clark grinned. </p><p>“Yes, now sleep.” All Bruce wanted was to close his eyes again and wait for his headache to go away.</p><p>He thought he’d said something wrong, because the next second the bed was empty beside him, but Clark returned quickly with a glass of water that he held out for Bruce. “Hydrate. It’ll help.” Bruce gulped down the liquid eagerly and thought about how annoyingly perfect Clark was while the other man slipped back into bed.</p><p> </p><p>As he dozed off again, Clark's breath was cold on his aching forehead and the skin of his arms around Bruce was cooling, which made Bruce wonder with how much precision he could regulate his body temperature. He decided to research that some other time. For now, he was happy to stay in bed with Clark, which turned out to be a much better remedy for his hangover than doing push-ups ever could have been.</p><p> </p>
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